Murky Moral Quagmire
by purplepetereater
Summary: Post gift AU fic.. Buffy's in heaven but things aren't quite how she expected. B/S slant which will be developed.
1. Default Chapter

That Murky Moral Quagmire. Part Two.

Part one by mlir is at ff net

Disclaimer not mine… not even the first part of the story!

Post Gift fic

PG- make sure you ask your mummy to read it first-it could warp your fragile little minds

Note- feedback makes a happy author… 

Part Two

"You?! You're William the Bloody?"

"OK. So he told you about my poetry. Look, I realise now that it wasn't that good but…" the bright head ducked to hide a semi-blush as he paused in an

awkward kind of way, an unusual mix of remorse, self pity and disgust as he remembered what he had once called his art. 

Pulling downcast eyes from the contrast of his black boots on the white, he broke out of his short reverie and looked at Buffy. All he could see was shock and confusion in the lines of her face and her clouded green eyes, confusion that this was THE William the bloody, the very same guy who used to drive railroad spikes through his

victims? Talking about his poetry, something didn't add up. The fact was slowly dawning on William that she had no idea what on earth he was talking about.

"You hadn't heard about my poetry, had you." It was phrased as a question, but he already knew the answer, the dismay in his face echoed in his words.

"No, I hadn't" she answered, with a slow deliberance and certainty about that one fact which served to raise the question 'what poetry?' without it having to be said. 

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all, really nothing, jus, jus, look just forget about it okay!" he managed to eke out in an ever quietening, stuttering and panicky voice, after which he turned away from Buffy's baffled gaze and stared into the limitless white expanse before him, full of regret and remorse at what had just happened.

"Okay" Buffy eventually replied, scared and bewildered at the scene that had just passed. What had happened? Where was the ever so cocky and self-assured arrogance of the Spike she knew and, well… knew. It had been there moments ago but now before her stood this quivering, self-ashamed person that seemed to only merely look like the obnoxious vampire. 

There was an awkward silence in which the pity swelled inside Buffy for the poor creature, but it was soon driven out by the urgent desire to find out more about her new situation. 

"So," she started uneasily, "just where in the hell am I?"

With this William seemed to pull himself together, "I think the real question, little lady, is where in the heaven are you." Once again stood before her was the Spike of old, his condescending voice sounding just as it always had complete with the spark of patronising wit in his eyes and half-smirk on his mouth. She waited for him to continue, but it didn't look like that was going to happen. With some annoyance, she tried again. "OK where in HEAVEN am I?"

"Now that, is one heaven of a question; if you'll pardon the expression, and one that

I'm not really capable of answering. You'd have to ask the big guy about that sort of thing, but not many people do. They just take whatever bit of advice they can get and settle for that. Bit sad really, but that's just the way people are." His attention drifted to the parts of death she had yet to know.

"Spike." 

She'd used that tone with him before. It was that stop-screwing-around-and-tell-me what-I-want-to-know-or-I'm-going-to-dish-out-some-slayer-brand-ass-whuppage-on-you, look. The one that narrowed her features into bitchy mode, all evil glare and seething intensity. The kind of intensity Spike took to mean only one thing…

"Fine. You really want to know. You're in the underground part….the bit you sneak into via the toilet window by coz the big-ass bouncer at the door doesn't like the look of the blood on your hands." His tone was dark with an edge of pleasure.

"Huh?" Buffys voice tiny and insignificant because in the depths of her heart she knew what he meant.

"You." He motioned with his hands. "Slayer." Now he had knelt on the white at her feet with his face cast upward. "Killer."


	2. Chapter 3

That Murky Moral Quagmire Part Three

Part One by mlir is at ffnet

Disclaimer: none of the characters here (all two of them) are mine 

G (I guess)

It took a while, but Buffy eventually managed to pull herself together again, with equal measures of consolement and "stop crying you silly bint!" from William and Spike. 

"Look, Buffy, ….. its going to be okay. You're strong. Really strong. Far, far stronger than I was and I managed to get through this." The tears that had clouded the corners of Buffy's deep green eyes for what seemed to her like an age slowly started to clear, as she heard what Spike, or William, or whoever he was, was saying to her. More than that however she was listening to the tone that he said it in. It was soft, almost delicate, and filled with a compassion that so genuine it almost scared her because of the face that was saying it. That face, with its tight lips, deep eyes and shocking hair; that had so often been contorted out of any resemblance of a human face by the foul disease that infected the body, the lips drawn back wide, barely able to contain the teeth within, the lowered brow that gave the permanent impression of a scowl and always the lust for pain and death that was plain for all to see. But no matter what memories she had of this face and all the despicable thing that it had inflicted on people, the care in the voice was so deep, so comforting, that she couldn't help but feel safe, and at peace.

With a desperate effort to quell the tears she managed to stutter out the question that was on her mind,

"What? You had to do this too?" but as she heard herself say it she was soon surprised that he had even been given the chance. How on earth did a man like William, who had put so many people to a grisly death, not go straight to hell?

Wit this revelation, the tears stopped, and the fear returned. This time it was deeper than before. Before all she was scared of was Spike. Now in front of her stood something far worse. Vampires she could understand. They didn't have a soul. That's why they did what they did. But a human? That was too much. Buffy's resolve hardened, as did her hate for this vile being that stood before her. She stood up; tall and erect compared to the small stooped figure she had appeared. How could she have been so stupid, to fall for this creature's sick trick? She'd had enough of Spike toying with her in life. She didn't stand for it then and there was no way that she'd let a little thing like death get in the way of that now.

"Listen butt-face. You may have fooled me with the puppy-dog-routine back there, but its not going to work any more. So start talking, 'cause I'm jonesing for a fight and you're the only one I see here."

"What are you talking about?" Said William, more than a touch frightened by the sudden change that had come over her, and she could hear it in his voice. And she was getting really tired of it.

"Oh, give it up Spike! What, you think just because act all kind and comforting and call yourself William that I'm going to forget what you were? You were a killer a long time before Dru got her hands on you."

"What do you mean?! I never killed anyone! I'd never do a thing like that!"

"So all those people you drove railroad spikes through went on to live happy and peaceful lives?" tilting her head slightly to the side and raising her eyebrows to compliment the heavy sarcasm that was painfully obvious to him without the need of such visual aids.

"I never did that." The tone in his voice was different now though. Before he had thought she looked on him as Spike, but that illusion had been shattered. She seemed to honestly believe that he, William, was a killer. He simply couldn't fathom it.

The change in him caught Buffy by surprise. Instead of the scared, obviously lying maniac there was now a quiet and confused man, who sadly looked deep into her eyes as if trying to read her mind and figure out what could have made her think such things. She didn't know what to say, or believe. She remembered all of the terrible things that Giles had told her that spike had done before he had been turned, but that voice, and those eyes, their sincerity touched her, almost made her believe, made her want to believe. She was lost. 

He saw her change of heart and the joy leapt up inside him. For he wanted desperately for her to believe in him, but wasn't entirely sure why he felt so strongly about it. He knew he had to speak now while he had the chance. Buffy could be quick to judge people, and he doubted that she would give him much of a chance, given all that Spike had done to her. He slowly, very slowly, walked towards her, and in a quiet voice he spoke the truth that he wanted her to know.

"Buffy," he started, excited by the fact he had a chance to convince her, terrified by the prospect that he might fail, "I never killed anyone. I never did anything to hurt anyone before I got turned. It's the truth. You've got to believe me." There. He'd done it. He'd given it his best shot and all he could do was pray that it was enough.

It was. 

What little doubt that had remained in Buffy had been melted away by the sweet and gentle words from this lovingly spoken man before her. In her heart she now knew the truth. He hadn't been lying to her. Yet how come Giles had told her what he had. He didn't make it up, he was Giles, he wouldn't do that and also why would he want to? And how come William wasn't worthy to get into heaven? It didn't make sense; her head was telling her that he was lying to her, trying to trick her into trusting him for some dark reason. But still she believed him. She was certain.

"Why?" was all she could manage to say. Her voice was like a whisper that spoke of the vulnerability that she now felt, to be so torn between her head and her heart.


End file.
